


Seungyoun The Sheep

by GuiltyPleasure1234



Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Anxiety, Canon Universe, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Idol Industry, Kinks, M/M, Nipple Play, Referenced Thoughts of Self-Harm, Referenced blowjob, Rope Bondage, Sex as Coping Mechanism, Smut, blindfold, friends with benefits?, sheep metaphor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26149360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuiltyPleasure1234/pseuds/GuiltyPleasure1234
Summary: When the emptiness gets too loud, Wooseok is there to help.
Relationships: Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Kim Wooseok | Wooshin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43
Collections: Challenge #5 - Lullabies and Dreams





	Seungyoun The Sheep

**Author's Note:**

> Please be warned. This is icky. I broke my own heart writing it. ;-; The sex is safe and consensual. The mental health stuff is… yeah.

Seungyoun thinks the K-pop industry is a sheep machine.

Like most idols, he started training at a young age. He wonders if one requires a certain _kind_ of personality to survive and even thrive in this industry. He isn’t sure what that personality is but sometimes, he thinks he doesn’t have it.

You can be doing everything right and it still won’t be enough. Talent can only take you so far.

There is a sad face + happy face tattoo on his wrist, grounding him amidst chaos.

Seungyoun hates it when his head is overflowing with thoughts.

Bad thoughts. Negative thoughts. Thoughts that make him want to put an end to everything.

When the emptiness gets too loud, Wooseok is there to help.

“Seungyoun, color?”

“Gr-green.”

“Good boy.”

Seungyoun opens his mouth a little wider, reveling in the weight of Wooseok’s tongue, letting Wooseok suck away all the heaviness inside him. Seungyoun imagines what he must look like right now: blindfolded, spread out on cotton sheets, hands tied together by ropes behind his back, completely naked save for his underwear.

“Pretty baby,” Wooseok’s hand comes up to massage his scalp. Hot breaths travel from the side of his mouth down to the juncture between his neck and shoulder, to the dip of his collarbones, over the expanse of his chest.

Wooseok flicks his tongue over one of Seungyoun’s nipples and his back arches off the bed.

“Always so sensitive.”

He loves letting Wooseok take control, loves the teasing, the slow ministrations that take him apart one veneer at a time, revealing the rawest, most primitive version of himself.

“Hnngg,” Seungyoun whines loudly when he feels Wooseok’s hand on his cock, already hard and leaking in his brief.

Let Seungyoun tell you a secret that isn’t a secret at all.

To be an idol is to be everyone’s object of desire. Romantic desire. _This is how I act if I were your boyfriend._ Sexual desire. _When should I reveal my abs? When I do this hip thrust dance move, imagine my body on yours._ Seungyoun is a blank slate and you are free to project what you want onto him.

He constructs a character that you will find attractive. He goes on diets and keeps up with gym routines to build the kind of body that sells. More views, more clicks, new fans. What else would people like to see? Should he learn a new impersonation? More muscles? Toner thighs? Didn’t someone complain about his soft tummy that one time?

Wooseok swirls his tongue around Seungyoun’s belly button, nibbling at his stomach.

“More, I want more, Wooseokie…” Seungyoun bites down on his inner cheek, muffling the moan that threatens to come out.

“Stop it. I want to hear you moan.” Wooseok’s fingers find their way to Seungyoun’s mouth, prying it open.

“Wooseokie…” he whines in between the salty taste of Wooseok’s digits, saliva dribbling down his chin.

Sometimes Seungyoun wonders if he should have chosen differently.

Music makes him happy. The feeling of having created something out of thin air, something that could make people feel less alone, something that brings joy and pleasure and a myriad of other feelings. The excitement brimming in his chest when he walks into the recording studio, colleagues smiling up at him, teammates patting him on the shoulders, Wooseok peering at him, eyes glinting under overhead lights. Those _irreplaceable_ 3 to 4 minutes that he is on stage, dancing to choreography his body knows by heart, catching the ever-fleeting red light in the black sea.

It was almost 3 in the morning when Seungyoun knocked on Wooseok’s door, throat tight and nose stinging.

“I need a distraction, please.”

Wooseok had rubbed sleep away from his eyes and smiled that endearing half-smile of his, “come on in.”

Seungyoun doesn’t know how to define what they have.

“Seungyoun, you’re human.”

“I wish I wasn’t. I wish I didn’t feel so complicated.”

The first time they kissed, they didn’t talk about it. It just felt right. Fingers searched out where each other’s pleasure lived. Seungyoun was breathless and free. Wooseok felt a bit like those magical 3 to 4 minutes. Simple and right.

They never put a label on it.

After Seungyoun climaxed, he sucked Wooseok off in the shower. The smaller man didn’t really care if he did; Seungyoun just wanted to make sure he wasn’t the only one getting something out of this exchange.

They lie together in bed, fingers drawing secret patterns, hair still damp and smelling of lavender.

“I like that you’re human.”

Seungyoun looks down at his bruised wrists where the rope imprints promise to adorn his pale skin for days. He catches sight of the sad face + happy face tattoo and decides that right now, he is the happy face.

“When we have sex, you allow yourself to be a mess. I like that.” Wooseok is propping himself up by the elbow now, smirking down at him. “I like messy Seungyoun.”

Seungyoun smiles and thinks about that. He thinks about what Wooseok might see in him.

“I don’t know who I am.” Sometimes, Seungyoun wonders what he’s still doing here. Here as in next to Wooseok, here as in being an idol, here as in being alive at all. “I barely know who you are,” he raises his eyebrows tragically at Wooseok, “who any of us really are, if any of us still remembers the version of ourselves before we were canned and packaged to be good little sheep.”

Sometimes Seungyoun thinks he’s a sheep raised for others’ consumption, stripped bare and devoured until one day, there will be nothing left of him.

“Does it matter?”

“What?”

“Why does it matter who we ‘really’ are?”

Seungyoun blinks.

“This is the version of me right now. At least the version I can be. And I like sharing it with you. Isn’t that enough?”

Outside the window, light is breaking. Seungyoun drifts off to sleep with Wooseok’s hand between his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are appreciated. ♡ Come say hi on twitter and curiouscat @purplepastiche1. :D


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